


Of Inns and Inn Keepers

by NichtBenz



Series: Crusts, Curses, and Chakrams [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Les Misérables (2012), Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NichtBenz/pseuds/NichtBenz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix And Nellie take a little trip to France, where they stumble across a most interesting inn. <br/>*Tongue firmly in cheek crack-fic*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Inns and Inn Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> So during a drunken viewing of Les Miserable, a friend of mine suggested this fic as a joke, and being me, I actually wrote and published it online. Enjoy!

Nellie had wanted to go away. She had been harping and nagging and begging and asking and nagging some more for a vacation for what felt like ages now.   
She had wanted to go to the ocean, to the coast. But Bellatrix couldn't. The constant lapping and crashing of the waves on the sand was torture to Bellatrix, it was like being in Azkaban all over. For fourteen long terrible years, she had heard those horrible British waves lapping just outside her tiny little window; taunting her, torturing her with the promises of freedom and massive open sea of opportunity just outside her room, mere feet away from her but miles away for all intents and purposes. Listening to the distinctive pace of the lap of the English channel could bring Bellatrix directly back to Azkaban, the only thing missing was the sounds of screams; the screams of her comrades, her cousin, herself, the weird old guy she didn’t know three cells down.  
No. They had taken a day trip to the sea one day that had resulted in the deaths of a by standing muggle family and Mr. Todd and Bellatrix leaving one another severely bruised and broken while Nellie refused to speak to either of them for a week. There were no British coasts included in any of Nellie and Bellatrix's trips from now on, just a simple side-along apparition to whatever landlocked destination they had decided upon.   
Sometimes Bellatrix did wonder about Azkaban and the very ethics of its existence. Bellatrix was arguably the most wretched human being in all of Britain, if not the world during her time, and even she wouldn't wish Azkaban upon the filthiest and muggle-iest of all filthy muggles or mudbloods. Spending the rest of your life being surrounded and overwhelmed by all your worst memories, anything good in your mind ripped from your very being as you lived in a stone hole with only the rats and your own filth for company was worse than even she could make up. Really, the wretched meals and bathing schedule alone made an hour of the cruciatus seem downright charitable in comparison. Much less the isolation and the dementors doing all that they did for emotional trauma. Yet that was what the "good" wizards of the "honest" life deemed to be a proper punishment for the various crimes of society. Bellatrix mused slightly on the thought of how many years she would have had to spend there for the crime of apparating a muggle alone.   
Now though, was not the time to think of it. It would only sour their trip.   
They had told Toby and the skunk of a barber that they were going on a trip to the country side for the weekend to talk about old relatives, and had instead apparated to Paris to spend some time together, and away, and (on Bellatrix’s half at least) to shut up Nellie about the "fact" that they "never went anywhere, and never did anything." Also, Bellatrix spoke a little bit of French that she had learned from her late(?) husband's family, and that seemed to excite Nellie in the best of ways, so Bellatrix was more than eager to exploit an opportunity to use it as much as possible. If anything it would at least distract her from the bloody fucking sea.   
And distracting it was apparently, not a second seemed to pass without Nellie oohing and ahhing and fanning herself in excitement over how incredibly exotic every baguette was. Bellatrix had long since learned to block out most of the jabbering, and was instead focused on trying to find an innkeeper and an inn so that she could further show Nellie what a very cunning linguist she was.   
Fortunately, it was at the very moment that Bellatrix was seething to hex the next person to cross her path, that some maggot of a muggle stumbled into her and with an audacious hand, reached into her pocket.   
Her fingers had no sooner found a loving grip on her wand than Nellie's tiny hands were buried in her shoulder shoving her and the fuzzy giraffe of a man through a door to their side. Had Bellatrix been less occupied with the smelling cur of a man before her, whose eyes had gone wide in a panic, she would have been quite impressed with Nellie's quick thinking and observational skills. But she wasn't thinking of Nellie at that moment, she was thinking of the disgusting military coat this bastard who dared try to pick-pocket her wore, and of exactly what shade it would turn when it had been washed with his blood.   
Nellie was very soon at the forefront of her mind though, when her tiny little hand had wrapped around her own as Bellatrix pulled out her wand.   
Her heart leapt more than she would ever dare to admit. It was something they had talked about in flirtatious whispers, both coming down from an orgasmic high, prolonging the lustful feelings through lustful speech. It was something that had excited them both, the idea of Bellatrix including Nellie in casting a spell sometime. Nothing serious, as much as it pained Bellatrix (and sometimes it was truly, physically painful) Nellie didn't have a speck of magic in her entire body, but the idea of her landlady/pet/lover’s back pressed into Bellatrix’s chest, her hand wrapped around Bellatrix's wrapped around her wand as she cast some devastating hex or curse, thrilled Bellatrix to her very core, and unfathomably deeper as her delightfully wicked Nellie visibly shivered with joy at the idea.   
So how perfect was it now, that on their private little vacation together they could finally hex some useless stinking (a major pitfall of Bellatrix's life in this time period: everyone smelled absolutely horrid) shit of a man into blithering insanity. It was downright romantic, and even more so now that a woman had come crashing into the room, hair in a state and clothes in disarray, she was strangely attractive despite being a somehow obvious match to the man Bellatrix and Nellie were about to destroy. They could destroy a couple together! Bellatrix was so overjoyed her grin nearly split her face in two. She liked doing couples, it was like a two for one sale at Honeydukes.  
Until she realized that Nellie's hand was not stilling on her own.   
No.   
The wretched woman had taken advantage of Bellatrix's momentary giddy weakness and disarmed her.   
How dare she!? How bloody fucking dare any living creature, much less a muggle, even her own pet Nellie take any witches wand, particularly her own!?  
Bellatrix would kill her. She didn't need her wandless magic or even her voice to do it. She would take the knife hidden in the bodice of her dress, skin the pie maker alive, bathe her in a solution of salt and lemon juice, then rip her every limb from her body with her bare hands! Then, when the wisp of a thing had finally bled to an agonizing death, Bellatrix would make use of the skills she had learned on Fleet Street, and for the dramatic irony alone, make Nellie Lovett into a pie.   
She didn't care about the woman who had entered the room, or the man nearly pissing himself at her feet, or even the officer who had come blundering in after them demanding to know what the commotion was about. Bellatrix didn't pay a word of attention to the woman's fast speech or Nellie's large simpering doe eyes as she played the role of a lost tourist while the man stood by quietly. Bellatrix cared only about her wand, which she watched swiftly disappear into Nellie's bodice as the three ran around trying to convince the muggle auror to leave. Bellatrix felt only the cold sharp metal she had slipped into her own bodice and the burning hot rage that smoldered within her core; its strength so strong that it left her paralyzed, her frustration at her own inaction only further feeding the flame.   
She was so consumed by red by the time that the useless old muggle auror came round to talk to her, Bellatrix found her very vision and soul blazing with an inferno so hot the flames had created a layer of smoke so dense and heavy it filled her eyes with black, and her soul with soot. She felt her entire being vibrating with an excitement over which of these wretched muggles she would kill first; she had let them all live far too long.   
Finally in a raging blaze of glory inside her soul, the fact that the fifth man was a police officer struck her. She had never really been one for authority figures, letting only one person in her entire life give her an order, but he was dead, and she was his second-in-command, meaning that she now had dominion over all living things, so this man, the muggle with his ridiculous ropes and shining medals adorning him like a bloody Christmas tree was particularly laughable, and as such, needed to be the first eradicated.   
It was brilliant really, and yet another spark set alight within Bellatrix's already inferno like inner being with the joy of it, and she felt it burning, singeing, smoldering its way up through her throat as if she were about to breathe fire from her lungs, a vicious cackling laugh sprang from Bellatrix's belly and out her mouth, echoing much too loudly and much too long, then longer still as the muggle auror stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes bulging, and body shuddering, let out a desperate gasp and fell to the ground with a ridiculous smacking sound.   
Bellatrix was quite impressed with herself.   
Granted, she was a bit more prone to accidental magic than others since her time in Azkaban and her subsequent… moodiness, but even still those fits were more likely to burst every window in Cissy's house, or set Lucius's hair on fire, or make the wallpaper melt, or shatter Lucius's ridiculous cane, or any number of things that really just served to make Cissy angry with her. Killing a man, the precise one she had wanted dead, purely through uncontrolled magic and therefore wandless, wordless, and generally undirected was positively impressive.   
She wanted to celebrate. So she couldn't kill Nellie for taking her wand now, whatever. Bellatrix wasn't particularly keen on going to the market today for lemons anyway. It could wait.

In a remarkably better mood, Bellatrix hopped in place once quickly before bounding over to stand atop the dead man and address her dumbfounded audience of three (well, two were dumbfounded, the other had a bit more understanding of what had happened, but was still understandably confused, and therefore obviously growing more impatient with Bellatrix by the second.)  
"So, muggles. I am the one who made this man die, and that deserves a party wherein each and every one of you, will do exactly as I please. Because I am a kind and benevolent leader I will give you an hour with which to prepare for the party and to fetch the items from a list of things I will require.  
"First, each of you is to make me a splendid party hat out of colorful paper, which you will then present to me. The maker of the best hat wins the wonderful knowledge that I will wear it, while the maker of the worst will be subjugated to my further practicing of wordless, wandless death making."  
They weren't scurrying about trying desperately to begin making her party hats. Nellie was the only one who seemed to be listening, however rudely with a hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised. The other two were too busy shaking their heads and mouthing things at each other as they glanced quickly between Bellatrix, the dead muggle, and a barrel of ale. What was wrong with them? Were they deaf? Or suicidal, or-  
Oh, yes, they were French.   
Briefly, Bellatrix considered repeating herself in their native tongue before another, even better thought struck her. She was the one with the power to laugh someone to death, and she had inherited dominion over all living things even if all the animal kingdom, muggles and wizards included, had yet to fully realize. She wasn't going to stoop down and "speak their language" so that they may better "understand" her instructions. No!  
She was saying this in her own language and that was final, and it was only because she, again, was a kind and benevolent leader that she would teach them English, so to speak.   
Without another word, Bellatrix pounced onto a bored Nellie and reached into her dress.  
Nellie had waited an instant to start squaking about "not the time or place" but Bellatrix could barely care enough to listen as her wand seemed to glide into her hand, despite the tight compress of Nellie's flesh against corset. Magic really was wonderful.  
Thinking back to charms class, Bellatrix tried to focus all of her attention on some spell tiny little Professor Flitwick had squeaked out during her fifth year.  
It was kind of a vague blur of a sound in her memory, but Bellatrix was certainly not known for her patience, and with a growl of "close enough" Bellatrix focused everything she had on the memory of Flitwick's tiny little voice, and impatient but vibrating with excitement imagined pushing the memory through the wand in lieu of a spell.   
The fuzzy man who had started all this mess dropped to his knees and clutched his ear.  
"Jesus…fucking…christ! My ear, my ear you madwoman! What do you think you're doing?"  
Well, he was speaking English so it had at least had some of the desired effect.   
A bit of blood dribbling from between his fingers from his ear showed that maybe something, somewhere, MIGHT, have been a little amiss, but no matter.   
Nellie however was bored, and had begun to wander around the lower level of the building.  
Time for the woman.   
She however, had an advantage in seeing Bellatrix raise her wand, and sprang into action trying to talk her way out of it.   
Hands raised she began her babbling and pleading.  
"Please forgive my husband, he's a lying louse really. There's no reason at all you need me. Really, here, take him." She kicked him then, in the general direction of Bellatrix, and that seemed to set him off.   
"What?! No! Never. My wife, and I, we joke, often, we do." He stood then, one hand clasped to his ear as the other arm tried to wrap around the woman's shoulders. She wasn't having it, and wiggled away, doing her very best to put herself behind him, and bring him as close to Bellatrix as possible. The man continued on though.  
"Really, truly we're in love, and a decent caring person wouldn't dream of separating us. Really, her too- do her too."  
Bellatrix did have to admit, torturing couples was always far more fun than wearing a fancy hat. But watching them try to trade the other for themselves, that was one of the very best things. She would be remiss if she didn't do all she could to prolong it.  
But now that they had both completely lost their cool and had started blabbering at the same time, as they did a little dance trying to use the other as a human shield, Bellatrix found trying to translate the woman and still hear the man absolutely exhausting.  
"FUCK! Ahhhhhhh. You couldn't have just let him go and been done? I would have baked you a pie in thanks.”  
Nellie's voice rang clear as her head popped round one of the door ways.  
"Thanks but no thanks, love. I think we might be related actually. By the looks of the kitchen I think you might be workin' off the same family recipe I used to."  
After a brief look of confusion, followed by the tiniest glint of horrified understanding of Nellie’s meaning, it was soon shaken off and the couple had begun arguing again.   
There was less blood dripping from the woman's ear than ever was from the man's, which while certainly was technically a good thing, did leave Bellatrix just a tad disappointed.  
She was very fond of watching muggles bleed.   
While it had been entertaining enough for a few sentences and shoves, Bellatrix (who was considered patient by no one’s standards, ever) was finding their pathetic antics more tedious by the second, and decided she would really have much more fun by actually scaring them.  
Choosing to start simply, and then work her way very slowly up, Bellatrix began her slowest, most intimidating walk (she used to practice in front of the mirror when she was a little girl) toward the blabbering French, and raised her wand.   
That did the trick.   
They might not know all the intricacies of wizarding society, or the current exchange rate of a franc to a galleon, but they had obviously put together “witch” and “wand”; or at least “mad English woman with a stick” and “trouble” and really, what more could Bellatrix ask for?  
Their tone changed quickly as they began to slink away, matching each of Bellatrix’s forward steps with a backward one of their own.   
Even their speech patterns had changed. Bellatrix could hardly be bothered to actually listen to whatever it was they were going on about, but tonally at least they were incredibly interesting. There was a drastic change from frantic squabbling and blaming to an even, rehearsed cadence as they began to speak together, easily picking up from whatever sentence the other had just finished and adding to it with their thick accents. Their mouths may have been practiced at speaking with each other, but not yet with their new language. Every time an increasingly frequent “bloody hell” came out Bellatrix couldn’t help but laugh at the resulting “bludee elle” and was very quickly becoming more distracted every second. So much so, that through a haze of giddy tears Bellatrix couldn’t entirely make out the man wrapping his hand around the handle of a gun mounted on the wall.  
She did however make out very clearly Nell flying out from a doorway, and in one smooth and disturbingly easy movement motion, cracking what seemed to be a rolling pin across the man’s skull, dropping him to his knees before she grabbed the pistol herself and shoved it into a pocket of her own. Bellatrix couldn’t help but rub a phantom injury on the top of her own head.  
No matter how horribly enraged Bellatrix really still was with Nellie over the incident with the wand she had to admit, she was an entirely different, and far more clever, species of muggle.  
Also, Nellie Lovett was positively terrifying with a rolling pin.   
It was oddly enough incredibly fortuitous that the puffy ginger muggle had tried to pick pocket Bellatrix.   
Not only had she discovered an incredible power deep within herself that would be incredibly useful for both instilling pants pissing terror into her enemies and inspiring followers, but also without a single penny or imperio Bellatrix had found VIP lodgings for herself and her lover.   
Bellatrix even got meal service. Nellie could have too if she would allow it, but she had (rather wisely, truth be told) refused to so much as touch anything made by either of the Thenardiers, and as such she had actually been the one making and taking Bellatrix and herself their food. The inn-keeper and his wife though, in an extreme fear, were waiting on their new tenants hand and foot. They had even very graciously shooed out any and all other guests (although this probably had more to do with their sudden inability to speak in their native language than any overwhelming want to concentrate purely on Bellatrix and Nellie.)  
So while Bellatrix had taken to thinking up newer and ever more daring and/or embarrassing tasks for Monsieur Thenardier, Nellie had seemed to rather enjoy berating the madam for her kitchen.  
Later on that very first evening, Bellatrix was rather enjoying a foot massage from Monsieur and a show from Nellie as she had taken a stool to stand on and was peering down into the depths of the Thenardier’s meat grinder. Madam was very pointedly doing her best to ignore every word out of Nellie’s mouth as she (per Nellie’s instruction) was pulling out handfuls of rotted…materials and half-heartedly wiping up after them with a rag.   
“Really? Is that ash? Ash? Dear Lord, it’s a grinder not an oven! How in the bloody blazes do you get ash in a grinder? ‘s like you been emptyin’ your… YOU HAVE, HAVEN’T YOU?” Nellie gasped, pulling her hand up to cover her chest in a display of disgust. Bellatrix knew Nellie Lovett incredibly well, and also knew that it was more for show than anything. There was little, if anything, in the world that could disgust Nellie Lovett, she had just decided somewhere along the line though, probably thinking it over as she skinned some corpse’s arse that she would start pretending to be a lady, and every time she did, Bellatrix couldn’t help but giggle.   
It was beautiful how the inn-keepers still stiffened in terror any time Bellatrix so much as chuckled. She was glad she had laughed that one man to death: now she was free to torture the couple in countless small ways without a bit of effort. How perfect.   
“You been dumpin your pipe in here, haven’t you?” Nellie tisked at the woman. “Dearie, even filthy ol’ you would pale to see the things what have made it into my pies, but I still got more hygiene and good sense than to go emptyin’ my ashes into the grinder. The cat’s tail in there, the bit of fur on it, that ain’t that bad, could do better but it’s a near staple of London food. But ashes, love, really?”  
Nellie could go on forever, and probably would. But as cute as she had momentarily been, Bellatrix was now just as bored as the chided madam appeared to be and decided to focus on her instead. Really, Bellatrix could listen to Nellie ramble on and on anytime, she only got to look at lovely if manic inn-keepers (who looked unsettlingly like Nellie –maybe they actually were related) this particular weekend, and as such, she would look all she liked.   
As the day wore on however the baker and the inn-keeper who looked so much alike, seemed to absolutely hate each other more and more. Bellatrix thought that for all their similarities they should be fast friends. Maybe it was that they were too similar. Neither one could make a single move that the other didn’t like, without a quick grasp of a wrist, a bellowing “DON’T YOU DARE YOU BLOODY FUCK!”, or a single menacingly raised eyebrow. It was actually incredibly entertaining, well to anyone who wasn’t either Madame Thenardier or Mrs. Lovett. Bellatrix was strangely enough starting to bond with Monsieur because of it. By the time Saturday had rolled around the two had spent cumulative hours together watching the only two other inhabitants of the inn squabble, or try endlessly to steal from one another, and had shared many a laugh over it. He was still a horrible filthy thieving muggle in Bellatrix’s eyes, but she no longer felt any need to kill him because of it, life would do so soon enough. Why not let him enjoy the time he had left, just a little?   
Sure it was far too merciful a deed for the great Bellatrix Lestrange, particularly if she was to become the bloodthirsty ruler of all man-kind and all those even lower, but she had learned more than a few things in her time with the Dark Lord. One being that you can’t constantly terrorize everyone into submission. People seemed to think that death eaters were constantly crucio’d for the slightest of indiscretions by the Dark Lord and put up with it only out of a deeply held belief of pureblood supremacy. But really, as boring as it is to admit, a leader is nothing without followers, and people will not follow you if their only reward is reassurance of beliefs that almost anyone could give them while they are being constantly punished with Unforgivables. Granted, the Dark Lord was by no means a kind and generous pygmy-puff, but he wasn’t that bad. He offered favors, and money, and Bellatrix was quite positive that if she served him well enough he would gladly have made her Queen of his empire once he had won. If he had won, she tried not to think of it.   
No, Bellatrix would let him enjoy his show in between foot-rubs and fetch, and let him enjoy what days he had left. That’s how you made a good master to little muggle pets.   
It was particularly fascinating to Bellatrix how different Nellie was in this environment. She was always pragmatic, amoral, and given a tendency to sarcasm and snark, but something about Madam Thenardier was pulling out a side of Nellie that truly enjoyed a good spat. For instance, while Madam might not be cooking for Nellie and Bellatrix, she did have to continue cooking for her husband and herself, because for the first time in her life, Nellie refused to share her food. So come their first morning in the inn, as Madam went about making some drudge or other for breakfast, Nellie twirling a bit of sausage on the end of her fork looked over her shoulder with a sneer.   
“Really love, if your cooking is anything to go by, I’ve been making French cuisine for years.” This was not the first such comment this morning, not even the tenth. Bellatrix couldn’t even keep count of the amount of similar sentiments shared over the day and a half that they had been here. So apparently, even with the threats of magic and rolling pins hanging over the Madam she had had enough.   
In a flash, Nellie was ducking out of the way of a scalding hot frying pan as bits of egg and potato littered the floor.   
Madam turned quickly for another swing at Mrs. Lovett, who had by this point produced her omni-present Rolling Pin of Doom, and took a swing of her own. Very quickly, the situation changed from a (somewhat) startling brawl, into a full-blown fencing match armed with kitchen utensils.   
Bellatrix didn't think she had ever been so entertained in her life. She knew deep down that she should stop the whole thing before one of them got hurt, and eventually confront Nellie about why she felt the need to harass Madam so, but she was having much too much fun watching two attractive muggles fight it out with hilarious muggle weaponry. She did idly wonder however if all muggle altercations were fought with tools a house-elf could set their hands on. It made sense given their primitive nature, and the fact that with every swing and block the women before her looked oh-so-very adept at it.   
Monsieur however, failed to grasp how truly wonderful it was and started again in that annoying way of his to drone on and on about "the limey rat" and how she was threatening his beautiful flower whom he didn't happen to have a life insurance policy on.   
As the shoulders of dresses started to slip however, and flesh became sweaty, Bellatrix couldn't give two flying fucks about Monsieur and his lack of proper insurance over his family. His endless rabble was really starting to put a damper on the whole show, which was becoming more erotic to Bellatrix by the second.   
Bellatrix decided she had far better ideas than just spending the rest of the weekend watching the two bicker, or getting rid of the bodies should one or both of them finally succeed in killing the other. No, her plans involving her two loveliest pet muggles were much more fun for all involved, well except maybe monsieur. The more the little shit continued to nag her though about safety and money, the less she cared about his happiness (not that she cared all the much to begin with) and decided he didn't need to be involved with her brilliant new idea. She would have to get rid of him, so that she could have her two beautiful sweaty pets all to herself and even sweatier. Really, she was being a good Samaritan, thinking of ways to get them to “kiss and make up." Monsieur however was being an absolute tear in her invisibility cloak however and ruining it all.   
She could kill him, but then that would probably not leave Madam terribly inclined to go along with Bellatrix's plan. Granted she could always use an imperio on her, but that was dreadfully...rapey, which was never something that particularly appealed to Bellatrix as even she found it to be just to wretched a thing to do. Truth be told, it was an absolute mood killer.   
Or, given that she was feeling incredibly generous this weekend, she could just shove him out the door with a handful of francs and instructions to go to a brothel. But that required entirely too much distracting effort to both convince him to leave his "precious flower" and to conjure up some muggle money.   
So quickly pointing her wand over her shoulder to the conniving man behind her, Bellatrix stunned him into a wall, and quickly ran after him to shove him into the storage cupboard. Securing the door with a chair, and pleased with her decision, Bellatrix returned her full attention to the two women before her. She wanted to keep watching, really she did, but the ache between her thighs was getting to be far too distracting, and she was also starting to worry that letting the two go on much longer with their blunt weaponry would result in massive bruising or fractured skulls, both of which would absolutely demolish all of her fun plans.   
Reluctantly, Bellatrix summoned their weapons and put both women into a full body bind.   
It didn't take an instant for Nellie and her big mouth to start going again.  
"Bellatrix Lestrange, you bloody arse, untie me right now! You have no right!"   
A silencing charm took care of that.   
It didn't take care of the look of absolute hatred and fire that Mrs. Lovett was giving her, but all in all, the look was rather...exciting.   
The witch turned to the inn-keeper whose mouth was frozen half-open, as if she had been ready to speak and changed her mind. Bellatrix raised her eye-brow in question, and the mouth silently snapped shut. Lips tight the inn-keep merely looked at her and shrugged her shoulders in a silent declaration that she had nothing to say.   
Bellatrix was pleased, her newest pet was learning.   
"Now ladies, as much as I enjoy seeing you both panting and sweating as you are, I don't want you hurting each other. I'm the only one with that privilege.” Bellatrix did not miss the roll of Nellie’s eyes. “But obviously, the two of you have some very serious issues we need to work out. So what we are going to do, is the three of us are going to go upstairs, where we'll curl up all comfy cozy, and talk it out girl to girl to girl."  
Bellatrix also couldn’t help but notice the brief glimmer of recognition in Nellie's eye. For her part, Madam merely looked intrigued. But intrigue was good, Bellatrix could work with intrigue.   
"Now, are you both going to be good girls if I unbind you?"  
After a sidelong glance at a now obviously smirking Nellie, who had developed enough gall to even wink at her, Madam nodded her head. Turning to Nellie, to make sure that she wouldn't pull a spare rolling pin out of her skirts, Bellatrix caught a wicked smile and the tiniest of blown kisses. She really was a bloody wonder.   
Turning on her heel and leading the way up the stairs, Bellatrix unbound the two women, and made her way to the bedroom door.   
One set of little feet came running after her much quicker, and as two surprisingly strong arms that she had grown to know very well wrapped around her waist. Bellatrix couldn't help but be excited, she felt the little feather light kisses littering the back of her neck, obviously begging for Bellatrix to take off the silencing charm, and feeling evermore giddy, she did. She really was very very kind. Bellatrix thought she deserved a medal.   
"I get to play with both of you, right? I mean, it's not just you enjoying some little French bit while I sit idly by?"  
"Why? Are you jealous, Nellie?" She had said it as a little joke, but the way Nell's feathers were obviously ruffled by it surprised Bellatrix. Maybe that was what had been causing all of the spats. Bellatrix debated the merits of using this information to play with the baker a little more, the raven haired witch eventually decided that Nellie would be no fun at all if she were being terribly pouty.   
"Well then, what's the hold-up? Are we having our little come to Jesus meeting here in the hall then? 'Cause really, I'm much too sore too..."  
Bellatrix shoved a startled Madam into the bedroom before slamming the door shut between them.   
"We've something we need to talk about. You just stay in there quietly and we'll be in, in a moment." The witch turned back to her little baker who was giving her the strangest look.  
"Oh really. Look, the entire reason this sounds so fun, is because she looks," and acts but Bellatrix didn't think that the wisest thing to admit at the moment, "so much like you. So why would I only want one when I could have two?" Though Nellie had obviously warmed up to the idea a bit, she still didn't seem entirely confident of the situation. "And it's only for the weekend. Which is fine by me, because honestly," she grabbed Mrs. Lovett's waist to pull her closer. "...nothing compares to the original."  
Bellatrix put on then her very best pout with her biggest eyes. She didn't like asking, even if it was an indirect sort of way of asking for permission, not for anything. But not only was Nellie essential to the days plans of debauchery and frottage, and vital to her living situation back in London, Bellatrix had grown rather attached to the strange little muggle and didn't like the idea of her being upset.   
Nellie was obviously falling for it. Bellatrix could tell by the way she kept trying to hide a smile creeping up on her face, and the deliciously low tone she adopted when she spoke her next words. "Fine." Bellatrix lit up.   
“But only because I have some etiquette to teach our hostess."  
Bouncing on the balls of her feet quickly, Bellatrix planted a quick grateful kiss on Mrs. Lovett's mouth before dragging them both through the door to join Madam Thenardier.   
What they found on the other side of the door was a bit of a surprise. Madam, with one leg lifted onto the bed as she untied a boot, was already stripped down to her most under of underthings.   
Bellatrix was sure she heard two distinct thuds of jaws hitting the ground.   
Madam turned to them, wine-red nipples just barely visible beneath her flimsy shift. Although truth be told, as much as Bellatrix wanted to focus on them, really she did, in this position with Madam’s hem bunched at her hips and only the smallest bit of pearly thigh visible before skin met with stockings. The stockings were admittedly coming off a little less than gracefully, but somehow, each pretense-less tug, wobble, and wiggle made it all the more arousing.   
“Well?”  
Bellatrix knew she should stop staring, she even felt Nellie stir at her side as she shook herself out of her own head. But knowing and doing were two different things. Bellatrix consciously made the decision to not stop staring.   
“’Well’ what, love?” Even Nellie’s usually so assured voice was quavering with a poorly disguised lust.   
Bellatrix couldn’t help but growl when a large section of thigh disappeared from sight as Madam changed positions, the hem of her shift falling back where it “should.” She did make a note to herself however: when Bellatrix finally reached that level of Overlord where she could have anyone she wanted killed without much interference, the first people to go would be those who made overly-conservative women’s underthings.   
“Well are we going to do this or what, ‘love’?”  
Bellatrix was too busy determining whether or not she had fallen asleep at some point, or hit her head, or perhaps had an aneurism of some sort when she killed the muggle auror to answer.   
She could however, just make out the sound of a rather loud gulp as Nellie moved closer to her still, grabbing her arm and squeezing just a bit tighter than necessary.   
Come to think of it, Nell was being uncharacteristically quiet.   
“Do what, love?” A single three-word sentence? Something really was off with the baker.   
“You know damn well what, rosbif. You’ve only been teasing away since you got here.”  
Madam pressed herself so close to Nellie that the tips of their tiny little noses were almost touching. The angry, Overload-in-progress-warrior inside of Bellatrix was more than a little upset that for some reason, this left the physical, present-in-the-actual-moment Bellatrix dumbfounded; she should never have let someone get so close without noticing them doing so, but she was too distracted to really notice. She would just have to argue with herself about it later.

“Crapaud.”  
“Crumpet sucker.”  
“Snail snapper.”  
“Co-“ just before Bellatrix could really internalize how many of the slurs from Madam Thenardier’s mouth applied to her as well, Mrs. Lovett shoved her aside, and with each hand buried in a fistful of messy blond hair, wrenched Madam Thenardier’s mouth close enough to her own, that she could attack it.   
After the brief moment of shock caused by the respective impacts of both the floor and Mrs. Lovett’s actions, Bellatrix couldn’t help but appreciate how much more sense each of the weekend’s meal –centric arguments made (and how much more they would probably make had Bellatrix paid just a little bit more attention to foreign relations in her history books.) These musings didn’t stand a chance at any sort of cerebral survival though, as a far more animalistic part of Bellatrix took over her brain and sent a fresh wave of hot blood coursing through her body to her groin.   
She was angry, and jealous, and lustful naturally. But like the predator she was, Bellatrix sat back, resting her weight on her haunches as she watched her prey, waiting for them to become their most vulnerable, their most delicious before she would strike.   
At this rate it wouldn’t take long. Madam had responded very quickly to Nellie’s actions for the better, and while her head and mouth were very much captive to Nellie’s, her hands moved wildly and quickly, divesting Nellie of all the important bits of clothing in moments. Her own practice with similar constricting fashions had the little baker’s breasts and shoulders exposed to the cold air, nipples pebbling and chest heaving with excitement. In seconds her skirts fell to the floor, forgotten at her feet but for the tiny goose pimples appearing on the bare flesh between her stockings and her bloomers at the sudden cold, neither clothing article acting as a deterrent to Madam’s roaming hands that reached up and around the leg to quite firmly squeeze Nellie’s rear.   
The surprised squeak from the tiny Londoner finally freed Madam’s mouth from Nellie’s and taking advantage of the freedom Madam pulled away long enough to breathe, the pause just long for Nellie to leap forward and tear the flimsy shift from collar hem to hem .   
The sound of the tear, the screech of the fabric as fibers were ripped from themselves cued Bellatrix to pounce.  
And pounce she did as in an adrenaline-fueled haze she tasted flesh, and sweat as her hands pushed and squeezed against skin and softness as she did her very best to consume her newly bared hostess and all she had to offer. She only became barely aware of the cold that hit her own skin, as Nellie came up behind her making quick work of the layers of black fabric.  
It was taking entirely too much effort to keep standing between the three of them. Thank Merlin for a bed being in a bedroom; all Bellatrix had to do was give one firm shove on Madam’s shoulders and finally they were all three wrestling atop the quilt and fighting for dominance. Somehow, in a flash Bellatrix found herself on her knees on the corner of the bed, arching her back against the bedpost as Nellie worked away at her core underneath her. The adrenaline mixed with the pleasure Nellie was causing her was like lightning coursing through her veins, it was like the thrill and ecstasy of a hunt contained on a single soft bed in a dim room, and it was wonderful.   
Bellatrix spied the inn keeper, who while not allowing herself to be forgotten, moved forward in-between Nellie’s legs, and began to slowly move her hands up the sides and around the front of the tiny baker’s legs, journeying ever closer to their apex before moving away, only to travel back again, like a wave lapping ever higher on the shore line. The sight of it made Bellatrix shiver. When Madam moved closer again, Bellatrix saw Nellie lift her hips in a silent request. All Madam did in response though was chuckle.   
“Ask for it.”  
Nellie broke her mouths connection with Bellatrix just long enough to growl out, “Please.”  
This time Madam laughed again, continuing her slow teasing, but louder, almost bordering on a cackle really.   
“No rosbif. En français.”  
Nellie’s frustrated pleas were somewhat muffled by Bellatrix perched above her, but Madam could obviously hear each one. Bellatrix certainly wasn’t complaining, the vibrations Nellie’s helpless whimpers sent through Bellatrix’s core were absolutely lovely. They did nothing to motivate Madam though, who continued a light leisurely stroke on Nellie’s inner thigh as she moved to rest comfortably on an elbow, a grin plastered from ear to ear. Really, Nellie’s moans for more seemed to make Madam even more comfortable doing exactly as she pleased. Bellatrix caught a giggle escaping Madam’s lips and couldn’t help but smile. If there was one thing Bellatrix liked to watch the near doppelgangers do more than bicker, it was watching them tease each other, while naked. The naked was a important, as was the particularly vicious tug on her clit as Nellie growled out her frustration into Bellatrix. Quickly accompanying the growl was a sharp thrust of Nellie’s hips as she tried to thrust herself onto Madam’s hand.   
Madam though, moved quickly and pulled her hand away just in time to land a sharp smack onto Nellie’s clit. Her resulting whimper was just too adorable, as was Madam’s throaty chuckle.   
“Now, now, Mrs. Lovett, you heard me ask for something, and I never ask twice.”  
Nellie groaned louder in yet more frustration, and thrust her hips a few more times in a vain attempt to get what she wanted without doing as Madam said.   
It wasn’t working.   
Really, poor Nellie was starting to look absolutely pathetic (and as distracted as she was by her own wants she wasn’t focusing very well on Bellatrix anymore) making Bellatrix decide to take pity on her. Using a variant of legilimency that she and Cissy had once used to share secret messages, she poked into Nellie’s mind and “spoke.”  
“’S’il vous plait, Madam Thenardier.’”  
Nellie bit Bellatrix thigh rather hard in admonishment. Bellatrix knew better than to poke around in Nellie’s mind, but really, this would have gone on forever if she hadn’t. She was about to “say” as much a when a particularly deep probing of tongue that followed showed she was forgiven, this time.  
Bellatrix felt empty then when Nellie pulled her mouth away long enough to speak in a wavering, regretful tone:   
“S’il vous plait, Madam Thenardier!”  
Madam just chuckled some more, her fingers moving ever closer to where Nellie wanted them, but not close enough.   
“S’il vous plait, what?”   
Even Bellatrix had to admit that was dirty ball. Poor Nellie wouldn’t know how to explain her filthiest fantasies in French. Hell, even Bellatrix didn’t know what the actual word for vagina was, only a few ridiculous euphemisms her mother-in-law had taught her. She was only just starting to try and piece together a sentence using said euphemisms to help Nellie when suddenly, Bellatrix felt the all too familiar sensation of flying, and the awful awful sensation of her ass hitting the ground, hard.   
Somewhere back on the bed there was a yelp, and worrying that perhaps Monsieur had finally broken free of his cupboard of imprisonment, Bellatrix grasped her wand and bounced back up…  
Just in time to see Nellie, hand buried in Madam’s hair, pulling the inn-keeper down quickly and forcefully to exactly where she wanted her.   
The air was quickly filled with Nellie’s pleasured moans as she got exactly what she had wanted. Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel her heart warm with pride as Nellie asserted herself so forcefully. Granted, that had never exactly been an issue with the ferocious little baker, but it was certainly a trait that Bellatrix had always admired. She took the moment then to just enjoy the sight. She could ponder about why she so enjoyed watching Nellie with someone who looked so much like her, but that wouldn’t do anything about the deep ache between her thighs; the same ache being further deepened by the look on the baker’s face as she threw her head back and her body tightened in response to the inn-keepers ministrations. Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel so exceptionally lucky at the thought of how she got to have that wonderful body whenever she wanted.   
Dear Merlin! What was going on with her brain? Two lovely naked ladies fucking in front of her and all she could think about was how lucky she was to have her life with her pet muggle back in London?  
Fuck it. She was just going to enjoy her time with the two lovely naked ladies.  
Crawling forward in the most predatory way she could manage considering how she had ended up on the floor to begin with, Bellatrix made her way up to the bed, behind the Madam and climbed up. Briefly, Madam did try to lift her head to look behind her, but Nellie’s hand was too firm and held her right in place. Bella could see her entire body rolling with the thrust of her hips and knew that Nellie would be damned if she would let the pleasure stop.   
Making the best eye contact as she could with the hazy eyed baker, Bellatrix positioned herself over Madam Thenardier, and smiled wickedly, before slowly moving her hand down the spine of the inn keeper, eliciting a wonderful moan, and quickly buried two fingers deep inside of her.   
The inn-keeper jerked against her hand and let out the most delicious cry, made all the more delightful by the way it was muffled against Nellie’s most sensitive self. Bellatrix couldn’t help but admire the spectacular way both women arched their backs.  
Leaning forward, Bellatrix took just a moment to enjoy the sensations of her breasts pressed against the soft flesh of Madam Thenardier’s back, and began to move her hand at an intense pace; the little patience she had once possessed now completely gone.   
Together they moved, Madam against Bellatrix’s hand, and Nellie against Madam’s face with all of them releasing such fantastic moans and calls. The sound alone was enough to work Bellatrix towards a release. She and Nellie really did have to regularly schedule a threesome or something, because the wonderful little choir they were forming positively did things to Bellatrix.  
As if hearing Bellatrix’s thoughts, Nellie’s noises of pleasure grew louder, and more frequent. Madam responded wonderfully, by pushing in two fingers of her own and moving her whole body with her thrusts, forcing Bellatrix to up the intensity herself. She was near desperate now herself for her own release, but was so wonderfully torn between her own physical needs, and her intense need to see that wonderful way that Nellie clenched her eyes and crinkled her nose when she came.   
The inn-keeper was making ever more noise as she moved faster and faster, Bellatrix answering with an additional finger inside of her, before turning her hand so that she beckon the Frenchwoman closer to her own little death.   
In a flurry it all seemed to happen at once, Madam came with a scream, her movements and cry bringing an already sweating and panting Mrs. Lovett with her, complete with clenched eyes and crinkled nose.   
Unable to control herself, Bellatrix threw herself over Madam Thenardier and onto Nellie, capturing her lips with her own in a searing and lustful kiss.   
Before she could fully grasp the situation, Bellatrix felt herself being entered, and heard a wicked chuckle before a playful nip was landed on her buttocks. Pulling away in surprise, Bellatrix just missed the wicked grin Nellie cast over her shoulder, before another hand joined the fray, rubbing frantically at her swollen nub.   
Bellatrix wanted to hold out, really she did. She wanted to make them work for it and prolong the fun they were having. But in her already hyper sensitive state, Bellatrix could tell she stood no real chance against the two women currently working against her. Only mildly frustrated, Bellatrix finally allowed the electricity to course through her, warmth and energy lapping at her very insides, before collapsing onto Nellie’s chest.   
It was pleasant really, the way Nellie stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she came down. She even appreciated the gentle strokes along her side as Madam rested atop Bella’s back.   
They stayed like this for a few long moments, Bellatrix near falling asleep in her complete comfort and bliss. How rare it was that one got to enjoy moments like this when trying to conquer the world.   
With a cough from Nellie though, that do to their strange position, rocked all three of their bodies, Bellatrix found herself still awake.   
“As wonderful as this is loves, really, I can’t breathe.”   
Bellatrix obligingly moved to roll off of her lover, only to find Madam obstinantly stiff above her. Elbowing her in the ribs, Bellatrix forced her to move. While she couldn’t help but appreciate the moxie, Bellatrix most certainly preferred Nellie Lovett to Madam Thenardier, and wasn’t about to let a weekend toy asphyxiate her favorite pet to death.  
It took only a moment for Bellatrix to find herself a comfortable position with her head on Nellie’s shoulder, and a protective arm slung across her stomach, and the innkeeper curled in behind her, settling her chin on Bellatrix’s waist. She could feel all of their breathing then, feel all of them slowing as they started to calm down and drift off into an exhausted sleep. Through the fog as her eyes closed, Bellatrix could just make out Madam’s voice.  
“So does this mean you’ll eat what I make for dinner tonight?”  
And Nellie’s answering chuckle.   
“Not in a million years, love.”  
Bellatrix was quite proud of her choice of vacation locales; she had quite the skills for foreign relations. 

“The only reason I’m not chasing you out with a stick is ‘cause you killed the copper!”

All afternoon Bellatrix and Mrs. Lovett had had to listen to Monsieur Thenardier ramble on and on about what horrible guests they were, and horrible people who beat men and steal their women and yadda yadda yadda. Madam had halfheartedly tried to discourage it at first then given up after Nellie kept refusing to let her “help them pack.” She did however throw a wink or two their way every now and again. 

As it was, they were finally almost gone anyways. Deciding that after fucking the landlady they probably really had overstayed their welcome, they had started prepping to leave just before Monsieur came in demanding it.   
It was a day earlier than expected, but Nellie really did want to stop by a country shop to try and find a souvenir for Toby.   
Checking the latch on their bag one more time, Bellatrix shrank it down to size before slipping it in her pocket and turning back to their “generous hosts.” She shortly raised her chin in acknowledgment. Her goodbyes were done.   
Nellie on the other hand wandered up to Monsieur and took his hand to shake it. “Thank you for your incredibly generous hospitality.” Just as he started to narrow his eyes at her, Nellie whipped her hand out of his, and landed the biggest sloppiest kiss she could manage on Madam (as Bellatrix could see apparently also stealing a lovely pin out of Madam’s hair.)  
Sure then that she had sufficiently enraged Monsieur, she skipped over to Bellatrix and grabbed her arm.   
Bellatrix enjoyed one more wince on the Thenardier’s faces as she laughed, before turning on her heal and getting herself and Mrs. Lovett out of France.

They started walking then, wandering down the small country road laughing all the while as they retold stories that they had both been there to see, until they eventually found a quaint little general shop.   
Thankfully it hadn’t taken more than a few minutes of Nellie cooing over everything she saw before her little hand clasped around some useless wooden trinket that she was sure Toby would “just adore!” Bellatrix was pretty sure that Nellie could have brought the boy back a lump of dirt, and so long as she said that she had picked it especially for him the boy would have treasured it for the rest of his life.   
Deciding not to push it, and just thankful they could finally leave, Bellatrix ushered Nellie over to the counter and waited by the door for the transaction to be over.   
Just about then was when Bellatrix was startled by an especially large gasp. She looked over just in time to see Nellie Lovett staring down into her bodice in horror.   
“The fucking frog stole my purse!”  
Bellatrix couldn’t stop the smile that grew on her face as she turned to the clerk. It looked like she would end up casting a jinx or two this weekend after all.


End file.
